Shift
by smilebot
Summary: Stupidity can only be handled because they're dumb enough to permit it; and a sneeze had never been so dangerous.


Chaos was not having a good day.

It was one of those days that he regretted ever considering to bring in—_kidnap_, cough, cough—the little pawns who were considered the epitome of evil, pent up in his chamber—sullen, furious, violent. It was one of those days that he cursed not having an air conditioner in his magma palace; it was one of those days where he told Sephiroth to shut up and turn off his battle theme for the five-hundred sixty-eighth time; it was one of those days that he wished the damn game was rated M for copious amounts of booze, women, gore, and intense language that could not be represented correctly in English.

It was one of those days where he wanted to bitch-slap Cosmos all the way to Sesame Street.

He shuddered at the unwanted memory of the "Elmo" fiend: Now _that_ was a worthy piece on his chessboard.

But anyway, that wasn't the point.

Chaos—the mighty God of Discord, ruler of the shadows and voids, the darkness that would obliterate the light …

Was sick.

With a malady by the name of "the swine flu".

And he was _not _happy (aside from the fact that he was never allowed to have a happy face, even in the cutscenes).

The cursed whore was going to pay for her insolence: Chaos swore that on his grandmother's …

…

Grandfather's …

…. his _ancestors'?_

—whoever preceded him, yes: Whoever that was—

_Wait … is there even __**anyone **__that came before me? I know that I __**am **__the alpha and the omega of all the recesses of illumination, but still, it's ridiculous. I mean, don't I have a relative, or something … ? What was his name? Clark? Charlie? Chester? … no, hold: Chuck … yes, his name was Chuck—Chuck Norris, I believe._

Continuing on, Chaos swore that on Chuck Norris' grave.

_Which was desecrated by that goddamn chocobo-head in the trailers._

Okay, so he took that oath on his awesome self's grave.

_Was that just a death sentence?_

Moving onwards, the enraged deity, who was currently swallowing a dire potion called Nyquil, summoned a vast army of tiny mannequins by his majestic powers and ordered them to fluff his boulder pillows while he pondered the many ways to squeeze the Britney Spears wannabe into a bloody … _celestial _pulp. He honestly was caught off guard—_**no**__, I was testing the lava_—by the blonde-haired freak regaining her powers after icon number 329 became available; or, should he say, was _furious _at the foolish idiots who came back with not a single crystal in hand—and if Jecht ordered one more damn thing from Jack in the Box, he was going to feed his sorry ass to the Spartans _and_ slaughter the "ciabatta parrots". Those ignorant wretches put up such a futile front, so easy to break that the goody two-shoes didn't even have to summon her sorcery at full force—she merely twirled her manicured fingers and recited a poem by Maya Angelou.

The next thing he knew, he was in Mexico.

—in a fucking pigpen.

However, since the intro has dragged on long enough, and Chaos' torture isn't the main point, the ill villain emitted a powerful sneeze that forced the entire group of minions to have a bravery break. The wrathful figure swiped his hand across, destroying the squealing bastards, irritated at their incompetence, but found that he committed a terrible mistake.

His allergies rose up at the copious amount of dark matter, a.k.a. the dust left from the dead henchmen.

So he sneezed.

And sneezed.

And sneezed.

Now _that_ is where this story—_worthless piece of rubbish!_—begins.

All with a snot-flying reaction.

**oOo Loading Screen oOo**

The awe-inspiring Warrior of Light had never been so intimidated: Not even when he was faced with a myriad of conflicts and soul-crushing decisions, the battle for the princess, the deep hopelessness and hate that his nemesis had radiated. Never had he so fervently wished that he had not spent a DP point to take on his enemy.

—because he was stuck.

In the loading screen for battle.

Miserably, he looked at the NEXT button and wished the player would just press the damn—_er, uh, __**stupid**_—thing. Then, he wouldn't be in this mess, staring at the low statistics he could crush with one blow—

A catastrophic bang echoed throughout his prison.

"What? What was that?"

He stood on his guard.

"It … something's not right: Don't tell me—Terra's trying to cook again!"

Surprising was an understatement.

"Someone, anyone, come to my aid!"

Nobody cared.

**oOo Chaos Shrine oOo**

"What's wrong, Rosebud?" asked the energetic warrior. "Tired?"

"No … I … did you _feel _that?" Firion confusedly gazed at his attention-challenged friend and knit his brows, analyzing the environment around him. "It's as if there was an earthquake over by the realm of Chaos."

Shrugging, Tidus playfully punched his shoulder and brandished his weapon. "Nah—you were probably just imagining it; I didn't hear a single thing."

"Yes … maybe I was … "

**oOo Somewhere in the middle of nowhere oOo**

Squall, who was sexily hoisting his gunblade on his back and posing for the camera, came up short when a gigantic boom knocked him to the ground.

He frowned: That was _not _supposed to happen to the most awesome character in Square Enix existence.

Moving along, the now wary contender scanned the skies and darted eyes to the left and right, pulling his Revolver back into his hands in an easy fashion. It was only after a good ten seconds of masterful analyzing that he realized what the mighty sound was—he had heard said noise before.

And he'd never forget it.

_Seifer … finally caught another fish. Wow, what a loser—_

Immediately, he angled his breathtakingly sexy/irritated/confused brow at the screen. "Wait … that means the idiot is alive."

That came out as a fact, not a question.

"Damn."

Damn, indeed.

**oOo Unknown oOo**

"_ARES!" _a potently masculine voice roared. "_I SHALL DESTROY YOU!_"

The beautiful and dangerous Ultimecia thinly hissed in an irate fashion, holding onto a wad of thick input and output cables in both of her sharp claws. Hovering in the air while she randomly jammed in the worthless articles, she silently hurled a thousand maledictions at a particular pigheaded lion before narrowing her dark eyes at the Bose speakers.

How the hell in her seductive name was it so hard to initiate a cursed battle theme?

She was stalling the young idiot enough: Sooner or later, he'd break all the stigmas of Chaos and come ambling towards her.

—with no evil music.

"_COME OUT AND FIGHT!_"

And there was that annoying bald man bouncing on a pogo stick.

Who knew that such a child's toy could defeat Garland.

**oOo Papa John's Pizza oOo**

"Whew, that was some good stuff," Jecht contentedly said, fiddling with an abused toothpick in his hand. "Who goes to Jack in the Box _now_, Chaos?"

The biggest rumble he had ever heard shook the entire pizzeria.

"Hm—seems as if their replaying my spine-busting Jecht Shot at the sports bar."

Arrogance was synonymous for idiocy.

**oOo Backstage, VIP room oOo**

Sephiroth reverently smoothed a Mason Pearson brush over his hair while he looked at his ivory-finished vanity mirror. An alluring smirk plastered onto his face, he contemplated the many reasons why he had over fifty-seven billion fanpeople who wanted to die by Masamune: Was it the all-too commanding presence, or his platinum silver locks, or maybe his seraphic face that was sure to belong to a god—

A thundering commotion that rivaled Supernova wreaked havoc in his room.

_What the—_

Suddenly, a pause.

A blink.

A frown.

A tick.

—before he knew—_guessed_—that Kuja was in his bathroom.

Again.

_That insolent fool dares to steal my vanilla shampoo!_

And this was the baddie who had to be defeated with four game discs?

_Please_—even Pacman was more hardcore.

**oOo The Rift oOo**

"Geez—I knew I should've told Cloud to go on the chocobo meat," Bartz exasperatedly stated, shaking his head with an audible sigh. "But he doesn't listen—"

Just then, Selphie cheerfully skipped up to him and performed her little happy dance, twirling about as she finished with a grand leap into the air. "_Heeeeeeeyyyyyy_, Butt-Butt! What's going on?"

Like the preoccupied warrior was listening. "God, what was he thinking? It was Sephiroth's black chocobo, for Cosmos' sake! Not to mention that chocobo meat already causes major gas … "

"Huh?"

"I …. I have to help him!" Whirling about, he stood there with a determined gleam in his eyes before he took off at a fast sprint. "I _must _give him my Pepto Bismol!"

" … hah?"

Sometimes, the strongest can be blinded by rampant stupidity.

**oOo Blank oOo**

—because writers' block can do that.


End file.
